I could never get enough alcohol. Even when I knew that I’d wake up sick. It was always the same. Tell myself I’d moderate, blow off that idea once I had my first drink, party like it’s my 21st birthday, and wake up with bruises and shame wondering where it all went south. For me, it goes south as soon as I have that first sip. Something happens when I ingest the poison and I toss my plans out the window. It doesn’t matter if it’s wine, beer, or vodka. If I ran out before passing out I’d always find more. I could manipulate people into giving me what I wanted and once I was drinking all I wanted was more. I’m not addicted to alcohol. I’m addicted to anything that makes me feel better at that moment. I’m addicted to more. More beer, more cigarettes, more sugar, more caffeine, more, more, more. It was never enough until I’d had enough of the bullshit. It has to be all or nothing for me. Since all was never enough, I’m good with nothing. Plus- I can’t explain away any more broken bones or skinned knees. Happy Friday, sober family! Keep it simple today.
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